Simon's Summer
by CuddlyHawk
Summary: The Sevilles stay at Dave's sister's house for Summer, but she seems to have something against Simon. Can Simon survive it, or will he be forced to have the worst Summer ever?  WARNING: Blood, child abuse, pain, hurt, & angsty. Recommended for ages 13
1. First Attack

Simon's Summer

Simon's POV

For the summer, Dave, Alvin, Theo, and I were staying at my aunt's-Dave's sister's-house.

For some reason, however, my aunt hates me! No matter what I do, she always turns it against me. It also doesn't help that her son, Josh, is always tattling on anything I say or do.

When we all finished our breakfast one morning, Alvin went outside to practice his pitching, Theo went to the kitchen to bake something, I went to my room to read a book, and Dave and my aunt were in the living room, getting up to date about what had been happening during the time they hadn't seen each other. However, Josh, my six-year old cousin, decided that he wanted to bother me... again. He liked to push my buttons then tattle to his mom when I snap.

"So where were you yesterday, Simon?" He asked, somewhat innocently. I had gone out all yesterday to get away from him and his cruelty, but I wasn't about to tell him that.

"Why do you care?" I said back, trying to focus on my book. I buried my nose deeper in, trying to ignore him.

"How come you didn't say anything? We were all VERY worried," he said sarcastically, batting his eyelashes. I restrained from rolling my eyes.

"I don't know. Again, does it matter?" I said through clenched teeth. I gripped my book so hard, I actually wrinkled the page.

"Why didn't you get home till late?" He got onto my bed and started hopping, making the bed sway. He knew I hated that.

I was starting to get frustrated with Josh. "Why don't you shut up?" I said, slamming my book shut, turning on him and glaring.

That was probably the dumbest thing I had said all day.

"MOM, SIMON SWORE!" Josh yelled to his mom as he ran from the room.

I groaned in frustration, pulling on my hair. I just only said 'shut up;' not some kind of vulgarity. This has been the worst summer ever. Someone must be getting back at me, or something. Earlier, Josh broke all of his mom's antique vases and he blamed me. I wasn't allowed to go on the swim with Dave and my brothers. Then Alvin and Josh were playing together, and they ended up trampling my aunt's flowerbed. Alvin owned up, but Josh said I was the other person who helped Alvin. Because of this, neither Alvin nor I could go on the mountain climbing expedition thing. Josh didn't get any punishment whatsoever. And each time I was framed, my aunt gave me a lecture on being more polite, or something. I never really listened.

"Simon Seville!" My aunt yelled at me as she stormed up the stairs and stood in the doorway of my room, glaring at me. Josh clung to her leg, grinning evilly. "How dare you swear at my son?"

"Wait, no... I... I just..." I desperately tried to explain, but I couldn't find the words. After all, why take the word of someone you barely know over your own son?

"Come here," she growled, grabbing my collar and nearly dragging me out of my room.

At first I was intrigued; what could my aunt do to me? She couldn't hit me; that was illegal. And she couldn't reprimand me without Dave's permission... could she?

She pushed me into the bathroom and locked the door behind her. 'Crap,' I thought. 'It's just her and me now.' My aunt grabbed the front of my blue sweater and pushed me up against the wall, my feet not even touching the floor. I grabbed her large hand with both of my small ones, staring imploringly into her eyes. I just saw malice and evil there. I squirmed uncomfortably, but she took no heed. My aunt growled as she ripped my glasses from my face and threw them to the floor with a small crack. I was getting very afraid, so I didn't protest.

"How DARE you swear at my son?" She demanded, pushing the fist that was holding me up against my chest, making me wince.

I took a shaky breath. "I didn't swear; he was being annoying so I told him to shut up!" I said quickly. I could feel tears of fear well up in my eyes, but I refused to let them down. What was wrong with my aunt? She never got THIS angry before!

I don't really know what happened. All I remember after that was my whole face throbbing, my nose numb and bleeding, and my aunt's face so close to mine, I could feel her sour breath. I tried to comprehend what had happened. Did she hit me? I blinked.

"WELL?" She demanded. I hadn't even heard the question.

"Ub," I said, my nose plugged terribly from the blood. "I didudt hear the questud." Man, I sounded terrible. I tried wiping my nose on the back of my hand to clear the blood, but my whole hand got covered in the red liquid. I didn't realize I was bleeding THAT badly.

I saw her wind up this time before I heard a crunch. Electrifying pain shot through my body, starting from my nose. I barely stifled a cry as I held my broken nose with both hands. By now, tears were streaming down my face. I tried to shrink away, but she still had an iron grip on my shirt.

"Simon, swearing is bad," she lectured through clenched teeth. "I don't know where you even learned to swear; you're only ten-!"

"Exactly! Thed why are you hurtig be?" I blurted out without thinking.

Anger flashed in her eyes and I saw her hand coming again. This time, she punched my stomach, making me double over in pain. Well, as best as you can double over when you're held up against a wall. I wrapped my arms around my stomach to try to ease the sharp pain. But as I removed my hands from my nose, blood poured all over the floor.

I tried to catch my breath, eyes clenched shut, as she continued. "You're only ten, so you should be taught what is right and what is wrong before you pick wrong and it's too late to help you..."

I bit back a retort.

"... So, to make sure you stay with what's right, I'm going to teach you a very valuable lesson," I braced myself for another hit, but instead I felt her drop me. I landed on the floor with a yelp. However, as I looked up questioningly, her shoe flew into my stomach. I cried out and curled into a fetal position, trying to protect my stomach. Her shoe collided with my back then, instead. I moved against the wall, trying to protect as much as I could. But her shoe collided with my body again and again. I kept crying out every time, then comforted whatever was sore.

At one point, as she was in a blind rage, she swung her shoe from way behind her and smashed it against my face. I shrieked bloody murder at this, feeling my whole face go from a throbbing pain to an electric shock pain to a so-painful, there's-no-words-to-describe-it, pain.

My one breath as I screamed seemed to last a good five minutes. In that time, I was vaguely aware of my aunt slipping out the door, locking it as she left. See, this door needs a key, and without it, it won't open.

I writhed on the floor in agony, trembling and sobbing. My whole face felt like it had been popped in, like a ping pong ball when it's been hit too hard. I couldn't touch my face to comfort it, so instead I laid on my sore back and continued to try to breathe through the unending pain. I kept shaking uncontrollably, whimpering in pain.

My vision became hazy, and not because I didn't have my glasses. I think it was because of blood loss. Tears blended with blood on my face as I sobbed to myself. I tried to be quiet, but every time I breathed in, it was a hiccupy breath that was very loud.

After some time, the pain was still as sharp as ever, but I heard a concerned voice on the other side of the door. "Simon?" Theodore asked. "Are you in there?"

I wanted to respond, but all I could do was hiccup as I tried to breathe. I also couldn't move from my spot on the floor; my body was too stiff and in shock, and didn't let me move. I had to tell Theo I was in here so maybe he could get help. So I did the only thing I could do: I tried to yell. But it came out as a weak moan. Thankfully, Theo heard it.

"Simon? Simon, are you okay?" He asked. I could hear genuine worry in his voice. The doorknob shook, but since it was locked, Theo couldn't open it. "Hang tight, Simon, I'm gonna get something to unlock this door," he said, and I heard his voice fading as he quickly ran to get something. I panicked a bit; I didn't want to be alone. Suddenly, my nose started to throb painfully, but I barely brushed my fingers over it before electric pain shocked me again. I whimpered in agony; my voice was hoarse from screaming.

I panted for breath, and as I did so, I faintly heard the lock on the door being jiggled. I was so delirious, at first I thought it was my aunt again, and I started hyperventilating from fear. What if she was coming back to kill me? But then I heard Theo's worried voice again, and relief washed through me. "Don't worry, Simon; I'll get you out of there... Stupid hanger, please work!" I couldn't help but smile at my brother's innocence despite the overwhelmingly painful feelings surging through me.

After a minute, Theo got the door open. From my spot on the floor, I looked in his direction, but without my glasses I only saw a green blur. There was an awkward silence. I can only imagine what Theo saw. Blood all over the rug, floor, and my body, my glasses on the floor, broken glass around them, and me, lying as a bloody, broken mess on the floor. Poor Theo.

I saw the green blur take a step back, then I heard the metal hanger drop to the floor, and Theo ran to my side, whispering my name. "Simon... Oh God, Simon,"

I panted to try to talk. "Theo..." was all I got out.

I heard his voice tremble. "Yes, Simon?" He placed a comforting hand over mine, careful to not touch anything else; he didn't want to hurt me.

"Get... Dave..." I mouthed, closing my eyes. My body was in so much agony, it was shutting down, and I could feel it: breathing became a struggle, my body started going numb, and my mind became fuzzy.

I heard fabric rustling as Theo got up quickly and ran downstairs, screaming for Dave. I was able to stay awake long enough to see Theodore running back, nearly dragging Dave with him. But that's all I saw before blackness consumed me.


	2. Coma

In my dream, I knew it was a dream. However, it was a weird dream. I was in a giant room. Well, I think it was a room. It was all white. Nothing as far as the eye could see: just whiteness all around. But I could hear. Not a dream, but real life. "Dave, look at Simon! What happened to him?"

"I don't know," I heard Dave's voice echo around me. The voices seemed to come out of nowhere yet echoed everywhere. But they were comforting. I sat down and listened. "Theo, bring me the phone; I'm gonna call 911." I heard quick steps leave.

I suddenly felt my hand become warm. I lifted it and looked at it, but I didn't see anything. 'Maybe Dave's holding my hand on my real body,' I thought. It made sense, so I went with it. I held my warm hand close to me. It was the only comfort in this white world I could find.

"Simon, hold on, okay? Don't leave me. We're calling an ambulance to come pick you up. You're gonna be fine... I just wonder, who did this to you?" Dave's voice echoed around me. I was about to call out into the whiteness that his sister did it, but I suddenly felt very afraid just at the thought of her. "Simon! It's okay! Calm down, shhh," I felt his hand on mine tighten a bit and a warm rag gently go across my forehead and cheeks. 'Probably to wipe off the blood,' I thought grimly. Then the thought occurred, 'Wait, how did he know I was panicking?'

"That's better. You poor thing. What happened?" He asked gently as he wiped the cloth ever so carefully across my face, getting closer to the source of the blood: my nose. He went over the bridge of my nose; the broken part, and I felt my body give an involuntary jerk, both in real life and in my dream.

I also cried out in my dream, wincing, but I don't think my body did that. The cloth was quickly removed. "Oh gosh, Simon. I'm so sorry! So your nose hurts? Ok, I'll be extra careful then." I heard crumpling, then something so soft, I barely felt it, brushed against my cheek. "Is that better?" Dave asked. "It's a cotton ball. It should feel better. I just want to clean up some of this blood before the ambulance gets here. Speaking of which, where's Theo with the phone? THEODORE!"

I heard quick patters as what sounded like two people ran in. "Dave, I just called 911," I heard Alvin say, a bit of stress in his voice. He caught his breath after saying that. I can only guess he saw me. I tried to smile, but didn't feel my body respond.

"Ok great Alvin," Dave said. "Thank you."

"S-sure," Alvin stuttered. I heard someone walk slowly over, then kneel down next to me. I felt a slightly clammy hand brush some of my hair from my face. 'Poor Alvin. He only stutters and gets cold hands when he's really scared about something,' I thought sadly. "Oh, D-Dave. Y-your sister t-t-told me to t-tell you that she took J-Josh out," Alvin said, trying to keep his voice calm.

"Ok. Thanks for telling me," Dave replied absently. Anyone could tell he didn't care whatsoever.

At the mention of my aunt, I could feel myself pale. Well, at least in the white world it did; I didn't know what was up with my real body. I felt a tightening deep in my throat and stomach. I was suddenly very mortified. I found myself not breathing as I thought back to what happened not 15 minutes ago.

I remembered my helplessness and terror. Maybe that's what she wanted. I could do nothing as she abused me; I just took it. I felt like a fool now; I should have fought back. I knew I should have, but I was too scared.

My thoughts were interrupted by a small hug. I heard Alvin whisper, "Simon, there's nothing wrong. You're safe now. Please stop panicking," and I felt the hug tighten ever so gently. I took a deep breath and tried to calm down. Then Alvin let go.

I heard a quiet sob next to me. "Dave?" Theo asked, his voice laced with concern. "Is Simon gonna be okay?"

"Of course! He's Simon!" I heard Dave pull Theo into a hug. But he always kept one hand over mine, which I was eternally grateful for.

"He looks a bit better... Not so much blood," Theo noted quietly.

"He was bloodier?" Alvin almost seemed scared to ask.

"Yeah. I found him like this, but he was awake and you couldn't even see his face; there was so much blood," I cringed. Did I really look that bad? Theodore continued. "He told me to get Dave, but when Dave got here, Simon was asleep."

"Theo, I don't know if Simon's sleeping," Alvin said slowly. I gulped. He was right. If I were sleeping, I wouldn't hear them. The only way I could be unconscious and hear and feel them was if I was in a coma...

I was shaken from my thoughts as I heard a siren wailing in the distance, coming closer. "The ambulance is here," Dave told me gently. I couldn't help but smile; leave it to Dave to be the bearer of news, be it obvious or not.

I felt arms wrap around my torso, seeming to attempt to pick me up, but they seemed to think better of it and let go. I couldn't figure out whose arms those were.

After a second, Dave's hand left mine. I suddenly felt so lost and scared. I could feel nothing from my body, so what if I died but didn't even realize it? I felt myself start hyperventilating.

"Simon! Shh, it's ok," Alvin tried to comfort me. I felt him grab my hand, giving it a light squeeze. Immediately I felt better.

I calmed very quickly. 'Just don't leave me,' I told Alvin silently.

"He's in here," I heard Dave say, then heavy boots came into the room. They must have been the people from the ambulance.

"He looks worse than we thought," a man said in a deep, gruff voice. "Let's get him to the hospital ASAP."

I felt myself being lifted gently. First my head and torso onto a soft bed-like thing, then my hips and legs. The whole time, Alvin never released his grip on my hand.

The ride was smooth to the hospital. Smooth and quiet. Since I couldn't see and relied only on hearing and feeling, I figured only Alvin was with me; I felt his hand still, but that was it.

Eventually, we got to the hospital and I was wheeled in. At one point, Alvin was told he had to let go of my hand. He refused at first, but then reluctantly obliged. But without him, I was afraid I'd die, and involuntarily started breathing quicker, nearly on the brink of hyperventilating. Luckily they let him come back just so I wouldn't get that far. "Just for a moment, until we can sedate him," I faintly heard the doctor say.

I then felt a small pinch on my arm. Alvin's hand quickly became cold. He hates shots, and I figured the doctor was giving me an IV. I tried to smile at Alvin, to tell him that I was okay, but I still didn't move. Defeated, I sat down again in my white world.

I felt myself become very dizzy. 'They're sedating me!' I thought, scared. 'No!'

But I couldn't fight it. As I quickly fell into darkness and silence, Alvin's hand never left mine.


	3. Dreams

"I'm afraid he's in a coma," I groggily heard a young woman tell Alvin, who sniffed gently. I still felt his hand on mine. 'Did they do anything?' I wondered. 'Alvin still has my hand, so did they ever do anything?' I never found out.

I opened my eyes and hoped to see myself in a hospital, but sadly found myself in the white room again. I was still in the coma.

Suddenly, Dave spoke up. When did HE get here? "Will he ever recover?"

"Yes, actually. This monitor here is his brain activity. It lets us know if he goes brain dead. But as you can see, it is very active. He might actually hear you right now," a nurse said happily.

I felt people's eyes on me. Uncomfortable, I shifted positions in my white room.

"You wanna see if he can hear you or not?" The happy nurse said, well, happily.

"Sure!" A trio chorused. I felt so lucky to have my family near me. I just prayed that they wouldn't invite my aunt or her son to come... I pushed the thought from my mind.

"Okay, first we get very quiet, and his brain monitor should decrease. Then one of you go hold his hand or speak quietly to him. If he can hear you, his monitor will become active again," the nurse explained.

"Okay!" I heard Theo say excitedly. Then everyone went silent, and Alvin's hand slipped out of mine. I fought the urge to panic, and tried to prove I could hear them by trying to think of nothing. Pretty easy; just stare at this white wall...

I then heard Theo whisper, "Simon? Please tell me you can hear me," and he placed his hand over mine. I focused all my mind on that warmness and Theo's gentle words. He gasped. "Guys, he can hear us!" He cried happily.

Yes! It worked!

I felt Alvin and Dave come closer and stare at me. I knew all I had to do was wake up and I could go home. And now that they knew I could hear them, they might help me wake up sooner.

"Now, just in case, we're gonna give him oxygen, but over his mouth since his nose is hurt." I felt my head get lifted and an elastic strap go around my head. I felt a ring pressing against my mouth, but I knew it must have been domed. I felt breathing become so much easier as clean air entered my lungs.

After that, I felt my sweater being lifted.

My breathing hitched in my throat. In the white world, I grabbed the hem of my shirt and held it down by my feet, praying that the nurse wasn't really undressing me.

I heard her gently talking to me, saying, "Don't worry, Simon. I just need to put the paper gown on you since you're in the hospital. When you go home, you can wear this again." I tried fighting her, but I could do nothing as the collar was so carefully pulled over my head. I prayed to God that she would let me at least keep my underwear. Thankfully, she did. I felt my arms being guided into the paper hospital gown, then I was set back on the bed to rest.

I felt so exhausted. I could barely keep a single thought in my head. With a yawn in the white world, I curled up and was soon fast asleep.

_"Simon," someone called me. I opened my eyes. I was in the bathroom, blood everywhere. My stomach churned. I couldn't bear to see such a mess. Suddenly, right in front of me appeared my aunt. She was grinning evilly at me. "Get him!" She told her son who lunged from behind her and pinned me to the ground. I tried desperately to get away, but blood bubbled up into my mouth, making it impossible to say anything. My aunt grabbed a knife and held it just over my chest. I tried squirming away, but couldn't. And I was too weak to spit out the blood. A searing pain ran across my chest as I watched my aunt drag the knife there. I cried out, despite the blood. Then she handed Josh the knife. "Go for it!" She encouraged. He took it and gladly stabbed my stomach, and I screamed, holding it. _"Simon..." _He stabbed me again, even more pain. _"Simon!" _Once more..._

"SIMON!" I heard my brothers yell. I woke up quickly. Though still in the white room, I was glad I was away from that dream. I slowly became aware of someone poking my stomach. "Simon, are you okay? Bad dream?" Theo asked, understanding.

"Well, you're okay now," Alvin reassured. How did they know I was awake?

Alvin held my hand and Theo Just stood by. "Dave went to get some food," Theodore explained. "Although I don't know how you're gonna eat,"

"The nurse is gonna put a tube down his throat then put mush in it." Alvin explained bluntly. He seemed more snappy than usual.

I didn't want to be fed; I could eat just fine, thank you. Oh, I wanted to wake up so badly! I tried banging my head against the floor, spinning in circles, even pinching myself. Nothing.

I was about to give up when I thought of one last thing. I stood up and frantically started screaming and flailing my arms and legs.

I heard what I wanted to hear. "Alvin, did you see that? Simon's leg twitched!"

"I know! His hand did too. Maybe he's trying to wake up. Come on, Simon! Follow my voice!" Alvin called to me. He probably felt stupid for saying that, but I felt so much stronger. I followed his voice with my mind, trying to make it stop echoing around me.

I suddenly felt myself land on the bed, as if I had been hovering over it. The best part? It didn't feel far away; it felt like it was right there. I felt Alvin's hand against mine, and I tried to squeeze his hand. Surprisingly, it worked! I heard Alvin gasp and rub my hand gently. I could move! That means... I focused so much energy into my eyelids. Maybe I could open them just a sliver.

I did it. I opened my eyes, but barely. Thank goodness though; my brothers were right there, staring at me. When they saw my eyes flutter, they got very excited. Now that I opened my eyes, even without my glasses, I could see their relieved smiles.

I forced myself to smile weakly. But the force quickly left, and soon I was grinning because I wanted to. Alvin pulled me into a hug and Theo got on the other side and hugged too. No words were needed. I felt tears of joy slide from all our faces, mingling together.

I was a bit surprised; our noses touched a few times, but I didn't feel any pain. I must have been drugged.

That's when Dave decided to come back. When he saw me sitting up, hugging my brothers, he threw the food onto a chair and joined the family hug.

"I missed you guys," I whispered, my voice hoarse from screaming earlier then no use.

"We missed you too, Si," Dave smiled, ruffling my hair.


	4. Second Attack

After a few days, I was back at my aunt's house, acting as if nothing happened. Well, almost. I avoided my aunt like the plague, and spoke to no one about what she did to me. If asked, I simply said that I didn't remember since I was in a coma. My nose was still extremely tender to the touch, even though it was okay at the hospital, so I was very careful with it.

But eventually, I knew I had to face my aunt again, sooner or later. I'd much rather have later.

The day came too quickly for me. My family and my aunt's son went out on a quick trip to the grocery store, so it was just her and me again. I stayed in my room, and she was in the kitchen. Cooking lunch, I think.

But as soon as the front door closed... "Simon! Could you come down here please?"

I swallowed hard, but obeyed. I stood in the doorway of the kitchen, watching her heat up the stove.

"Did you tell anyone about your punishment a week ago?" She asked sternly, not looking up from her work.

"No..."

"Good. Because if you did, you'd be in so much trouble," she watched the wires turn blazingly red in the oven. She seemed a bit too interested in them. "Come here, Simon. Do you think this is hot enough?"

I was a bit startled. Who was I to ask about kitchen stuff? Theo was the chef. But I walked over anyway. Looking back, I can't believe I couldn't see her trick earlier. She leaned over a bit. "It looks hot enough, no?" She asked me. I looked in.

"Uh, what are you making?"

"A point," she grabbed my right wrist. My eyes widened and I tried to squirm away. "I am going to make sure you don't tell, because if you do, THIS will happen," she said, her tone getting louder by the second. She held onto my wrist and thrusted it into the oven, against a red-hot wire.

I felt myself stiffen in shock. At first, I couldn't feel it. It actually felt cold. But then it got hot. And hotter. And HOTTER. Soon, I had to severely hold back a reaction, but I felt my skin bubbling against the fire.

I couldn't hold it in. I shrieked so loudly, I'm surprised Dave and the others didn't hear me. I tried wrenching my hand away, but her grip tightened and pressed harder against the fire. I was in so much pain, I felt it come in overwhelming waves, over and over again. I felt my hand bubbling as it cooked in the oven.

I cried loudly, my eyes being so blurred, I couldn't see anything. "No! Please stop!" My world spun around me wildly as I desperately tried to survive the fiery pain, the whole time screaming like a little girl.

My whole body felt like it was on fire, and I writhed so hard against my aunt's grip. But she never faltered.

Finally, she let go. I pulled my hand out so quickly, not even a cheetah could have seen it. I then cradled my still-sizzling hand and ran to the sink. With my eyes glazed with pain, I turned the water on lukewarm and stuck my hand in.

Relief washed over it as it stopped bubbling and cooking. But the burning was still there. I took deep breaths. Apparently I forgot to breathe at some point; my lungs tingled. My whole right arm up to my shoulder throbbed painfully. I turned the water colder every few seconds. Eventually I couldn't cool down my hand anymore; the water was on as cold as it could get, so I turned off the water. I cradled my dominant hand close, trying to ease it.

In my panic, I completely forgot about my aunt, standing right behind me. I turned to face her, a shocked and bewildered look on my face. She was indifferent.

"Now you know the consequences if you tell anyone, got it?" She pressed.

I just nodded, mortified; I didn't have the strength nor courage to speak. After she left, my legs gave out and I collapsed onto my knees on the floor, still trying to ease the pain. It felt like I still had my hand on hot, black pavement. But I couldn't cool it anymore, so I gritted my teeth and tried to move on.

I soon realized that I couldn't move my hand now. I tried applying a burn cream then wrapping it in gauze. It helped a bit, but I still couldn't move my hand; I couldn't make a fist or wiggle my fingers.

Eventually, it just became a strong throbbing pain, but it went up nearly my whole arm. 'I can't tell Dave or even my brothers what she did; she'll hurt me again,' I figured. I needed something to put over my hand so they wouldn't see the gauze. I rummaged in my clothes drawer. Gloves! I never wore them since they were too big, but it would be perfect for now. I slipped both leather gloves on, and just in time; the rest of the family got home.

I quickly washed my face, to get rid of any evidence of crying or pain. It worked. "There you are, Simon! You hungry? We got hamburgers!" Dave called to me as I walked down the stairs, hoping no one would question the leather gloves.

"A bit," I replied, trying to sound like myself.

"Good. Can you pass out the plates and some toppings for the burgers?"

I tensed. I only could use one hand. But I swallowed and walked in the kitchen. I grabbed six plates with my left hand and passed them to each spot at the table. Then, one by one, brought the ketchup, mustard, tomatoes, and lettuce to the table.

By the time I finally finished, everyone was staring at me, waiting. I felt my face get hot as I sat quickly between Alvin and Theo. Then everyone dug in, chattering noisily. That is, everyone but Theodore. He quietly whispered to me, "Simon, are you okay?"

I wanted to tell him; I really did. But instead I forced up a lie. "Yeah. I'm fine," I smiled, but Theo knew it was fake.

"Why didn't you bring everything over in one trip, like you usually do?"

I looked down, shrugging.

"Simon, I want to help you! Please tell me what's wrong!"

"Nothing's wrong!" I snapped. I picked up my burger with my non-burnt hand.

"And why are you suddenly always using your left hand? You always said to love your dominant hand and teach it how to do everything,"

So I had. "Uh, I figured my non-dominant hand could use some practice; I never use it," I lied quickly.

Theo seemed unsettled, but dropped the matter. However, after a second or two, "Yuck! Simon put tomatoes on my sandwich!" Josh cried, holding the thinly-sliced fruit between his fingers disgustedly while making a face.

My aunt turned on me. I felt my blood run cold.

"Simon," she said gently, like she used to. "You know Josh hates tomatoes," It looked like she moved on after that, but I knew the monster that lurked beneath that fake smile and tone. And I had a feeling I was gonna see it soon.


	5. Decisions

I was feeling really tired, so I decided to take a quick nap. Unfortunately, Alvin was in there too. He was making a model spaceship.

"I'm tired. Don't bother me, okay?" I asked quietly. Alvin didn't look up.

"Yeah, sure," he said absently. I rolled my eyes and crawled into bed. After resting for an hour, I felt much better.

I knew I should probably change the bandages on my hand, so I got the gauze out along with the cream. As I unwrapped my hand and studied it, trying to see if it got any better, Alvin said nervously, "What is THAT? What happened to your hand?"

I felt myself stiffen. "Um, nothing. I'm practicing for school?"

"Are you asking?"

"N-no. I'm practicing for school."

"Practicing for what? Your hand doesn't turn black if you're just practicing,"

I was at a loss. "Uh, it's for Health," I lied. "We have to color a body part black, then see how long it takes us to completely cover it. My time earlier was really bad, so I'm practicing for class," I was impressed with the story I came up with in ten seconds.

Alvin frowned, furrowing his eyebrows. "Right. That's why you were wincing when you were taking off the old bandage. And why you have burn cream," Alvin came up to my bed. I didn't know whether to push him away or welcome him; my aunt didn't give a threat if they found out by themselves.

I decided to let Alvin come over. I hung my head, still cradling my hand. Alvin gently looked at me, my hand, the gauze and cream, then the old wrapping. "Simon, you really hurt yourself,"

I held back telling him that I did nothing.

Alvin looked me in the eye, but I avoided his eyes. "Can I see your hand?" Alvin asked very quietly.

I didn't hold it up for him, but allowed him to take it. His touch was so gentle, I wanted to tell him everything, and he would never hurt me or put me down.

Alvin examined it for a second, then asked, "Do you mind if I touch it, to see where it hurts?" I shook my head a bit hesitantly.

He sensed my hesitation, so first he touched my palm. "Does that hurt?" I cringed.

"Yeah,"

His mouth pressed into one line. Alvin put one finger under my curved ones and gently pulled up, straightening them. At first it was okay, but once they reached a certain point, pain shocked me, and I gasped, closing my eyes quickly.

Alvin stopped, but didn't move his hand. "I want you to hold your fingers this straight. I'm gonna take my hand away now," as he did, my fingers curled again, despite me trying to keep them straight. He repeated this process until I could hold them a bit straight as long as I wanted. I could also make a fist, though it wasn't very strong.

Afterwards, Alvin asked, "Do you want me to dress it for you?" I nodded gratefully. I never was good at wrapping, and since Alvin played so many sports, he saw injuries all the time.

The cream was a bit cold as he rubbed some gently on my palm and fingers. He then wrapped it in gauze, somewhat tight around my wrist, but also loosely around my hand and fingers. "We don't want it to slip off, however, we want the wound to breathe as well," Alvin explained his reasoning as he finished. After helping me put the glove back on, he smiled weakly at me.

"There. That should feel better,"

"It does, thanks Alvin," I got up off my bed and was about to go downstairs when I felt his hand on my shoulder. I turned. "What?"

"What happened? How did you get burned so badly? I figure that, according to the severity of the burn, your hand was against the hot thing for more than mere seconds. And I highly doubt you'd keep your hand there willingly for so long. So my question is: Who did this to you?"

I swallowed. He may not be bright, but he figured it out anyway. Only problem being that I couldn't tell him. He had to figure it out otherwise I'd be hurt again. I looked at the floor. "I can't tell you," I whispered.

Alvin seemed to deflate a bit. "What do you mean?"

"They told me that if I told anyone, they would hurt me again. To show they weren't bluffing, they burned me against a stove for a whole minute, or so it felt," tears came to my eyes. I wanted more than anything to tell Alvin that our aunt was the 'they' in the story. Alvin knew I wanted to tell too.

"Who is 'they'?" Alvin kindly pulled me over to a bed and had me sit next to him. I looked at Alvin, almost ready to say, but turned away, sighing and shaking my head.

Alvin seemed really disappointed, but also seemed to understand. He gave me a side-hug, then stood up, going outside. I followed silently.


	6. Third Attack and Discovery

"What do you guys think about seeing a movie tonight?" Dave suggested around 6 that night. Everyone wanted to go.

But as I got ready, my hand felt really terrible. I knew I had to change the gauze and cream; I hadn't since Alvin put it on nearly four hours ago.

"You know Dave, I'm not feeling too well. Do you think I could stay home?" I asked, holding my hand close to me, making it look like I had a stomachache, but really was cradling my hand.

"Oh no," Dave said worriedly. "Do you think it's from the coma?"

"I doubt it," I barely held back rolling my eyes.

"Well, just in case, sis, could you stay home and watch him for me?" Dave asked his sister sweetly. I paled.

"Sure," She replied happily. "I'd love to watch him!"

"Ok great. Thanks! I'll be back around 8-ish," Dave told her. She bade him goodbye and I watched my family leave.

Immediately after, I ran upstairs as fast as I could. My aunt was right behind me. I burst into my room and tried to close the door, but she stuck her shoe in the way. After a second, I let the door go, knowing she was coming in anyway, and nervously walked backwards until I was against the far wall.

My aunt approached me. "What did you do wrong?" She asked.

"I... gave Josh tomatoes but he hates them?" I asked.

"Perfect. Now, what is your punishment? Oh! I know!" I swallowed hard as she came closer and grabbed my collar again.

"Take off your shirt," she growled in my ear. My eyes widened. 'No!' I shook my head quickly.

"You idiot," she rolled her eyes exasperatedly. "I'm not gonna rape you. I just need your bare back," again, I refused.

"Alright," she said, almost seeming to be agreeable as she let go of me. I watched her curiously as she went to our drawer and got some scissors.

She came back, but I tried to run again. She easily grabbed me and pinned me to the floor. I struggled and squirmed so hard, but no words rose to my mouth. She easily cut away at my beautiful blue sweater until she could rip it off me. She also didn't care if she "accidentally" cut my skin too. Then she snatched my glasses as well and threw them on the side table.

I lay on the floor, half-clothed, wondering what she wanted now. Mortification held me there as she left for a minute, then came back with a few belts. I still couldn't move as she easily picked me up and threw me into my bed. Had Dave done that, I would have enjoyed it. But it wasn't Dave. And I didn't enjoy it.

She grabbed my wrists and used a belt to secure them against the headboard of my bed. I knew better than to try to run or even to refuse. Finally, I was secured against the bed, my bare back facing outwards; toward her.

I heard a snap as she cracked another belt like a whip. I shrunk where knelt.

Suddenly, SNAP!

My back arched in pain, a startled and pained cry left my mouth. I looked over my shoulder and saw a large, straight red line across my back. It burned terribly. I saw her wind up again, but I looked away as she hit me; my back arched, but I was able to hold back the cry.

Again, and again. Never stopping, never slowing. When she would go over the same spot twice, I would cry out or whimper quietly.

Finally, with one extremely hard hit, I felt my back slice open, as if the belt was a knife and my back was butter. I screamed, and felt hot liquid dribble down my sides, dripping onto the bed. I clenched my eyes as the whip came down, again slicing me open. A cry rang out once more.

This went on so long, my whole back was covered in burning red lines, and I was bleeding all over my bed. It hurt to inhale deeply; it expanded the wounds.

My aunt stopped for some reason. I looked behind me, hoping I was done, but in my blurred vision, I saw her holding the leather side and swinging the buckle. I gasped and cowered just before it hit.

SNAP! As it broke the air and spliced open my back again. CRACK! As the large metal buckle collided against a vertebrae in my back, nearly breaking it. I cried out so loudly. This continued so much, I lost track of time.

"I wanna hear your pain!" Someone yelled behind me. I was in such a stupor, I didn't even know who it was. I screamed as the buckle came down once more, cracking against my spine again. By now, I just flinched as I was hit; my back stopped involuntarily arching.

One thing we both forgot was that my cell phone was in my back pocket. There were four buttons on it: Emergency, Home, Mom, and Dad. For me, only three of the buttons were programmed, since no one knew where my mom was.

As I was hit again with the buckle and cried out loudly, neither of us knew that the belt accidentally pressed the 'Dad' button.

Dave must have heard his phone ring; he answered it after a second. "Hello?" He called. It was quiet in our room; my aunt was winding up. She was in such a rage, she didn't even hear Dave calling. "Simon, are you okay?" The belt came down. SNAP! CRACK! I hollered loudly, trying to grit my teeth so I'd be quiet. "Simon?" I breathed unevenly, sobbing.

"Why...?" I asked my aunt. Why does she hate me? Why does everything I do need to be punished? Why does she enjoy hurting me?

"Because I have rage issues," I was surprised to actually hear her respond. I knew the phone was on, and I was so glad she decided to talk now. "I need something to be angry at, then I take out all my anger on that thing, and I can be pleasant for the rest of the day, YOU are my something, Simon. So shut up and be in pain!" the belt came down, whizzing. It slapped my back, and I whimpered. Tears ran down my face.

I heard the static sound of someone on the phone, gasping. Dave didn't hang up; I could hear still the static and quiet buzz as people on the other line spoke.

I heard frantic, scared voices.

Finally, "Alright, Simon. I feel better. If you can untie yourself, you can go," my aunt taunted as she left. She never knew about the phone. It stayed on while I attempted to pull my wrists free.

"Simon?" I heard Alvin call over the phone, very seriously. "What's going on? Who was that?"

He didn't recognize our aunt's voice. My heart sank. I couldn't speak; it hurt too badly. I just sobbed and whimpered. Alvin heard. "Simon, please say anything!" Alvin desperately called. I tried to get enough air into my lungs to talk, but couldn't. I could barely breathe as it was.

"It's no use," I heard Alvin say as I continued to work on getting my wrists free. "He won't answer. But I can hear him breathing heavily,"

"Then we're going back," Dave said, determined.

I was shocked. They were coming back? For me? With a mighty yank and a groan, I pulled my hands free. "Simon, I know you're there," I heard Theo's voice say quietly. "It's like the bathroom. You're there, but too hurt to answer. Don't worry; we'll be there soon," there was no question in his voice.

I quickly found that I could barely move. It hurt my still-stinging back horribly. Somehow I got to the bathroom however, but I didn't know what to do then; I couldn't reach my back to clean it. So instead, I ran a shower and washed the blood off that way.

I had to take off the gauze from my burnt hand before I could go in the shower. The cold air kinda stung yet also felt kinda good. The warm water was like murder against my back, but I grit my teeth and put up with it. After a bit, the water didn't hurt anymore. I was in the shower for awhile, hoping that if I was in there long enough, I wouldn't be hurt at all anymore. Of course that didn't work.

Eventually, I got out. I had to move very slowly so as not to agitate my back or hand. I even realized I still had to be careful with my nose when I accidentally passed the towel over my face and then yelped as pain shot quickly through me.

I had just pulled on my underwear and night pants with one hand when Dave got back. I heard the lock in the front door turn and then quick pattering to our room.

Then a scream.

'Crap!' I thought. 'I forgot to change the blood-stained sheets!' I slapped myself mentally. Little did I know that someone was coming to physically do that.

"It's okay, Theodore," I heard my aunt explain sweetly. "Simon and I were eating leftover hamburgers together on Simon's bed, but Simon spilled ketchup-!"

"I know what ketchup smells like. This smells like metal. This is blood," Theodore snapped. I then heard him walk up to the bathroom door. "Simon? You in there again?" He sounded too sweet to have just snapped at our aunt.

I forced myself to speak. "Yes," I sounded terrible again! It sounded like I was trying to talk and I didn't have a voice box; very whispery and quiet.

"Are you locked in unwillingly?"

"No. I'm fine, thanks Theo," It hurt so badly to lie to him about that, but I couldn't risk another beating.

I didn't hear him leave, but other footsteps came up to the door. "Simon, I'm coming in," my aunt said sternly. I couldn't protest. She opened the door, and I could see Theo standing behind my aunt, a concerned and almost sympathetic look on his face. However, when my aunt came in, she growled at me something about evidence, and tried to close the door. Luckily, I quickly grabbed something and jammed it in the door. So when my aunt went to close it, it wouldn't close all the way.

She didn't even realize. As she then proceeded to quietly yell at me (She didn't want Theodore to hear) for not cleaning the bed, I discreetly peeked through the crack between the door and frame. Thank God; Theo was still there. He was actually looking through the crack as well.

"... So, since everyone's home," my aunt continued. "If you make so much as one sound, I will kill you. Is that clear?"

"Yes," I whispered, reluctantly turning from the door and brother to face my enraged aunt. I purposely stood where Theo could see me. I heard him gasp.

"Simon," I barely heard. "Is that blood on your back?"

I nodded very gently. I also put my hands behind me to show him that my hand was also burned. But to my aunt, it looked like I was being submissive.

Theo gasped again. "Your hand-it's black! What happened? Were you burned?" I nodded gently again.

He gave a sympathetic click of his tongue.

"... Are you even listening?" My aunt whispered angrily. I snapped out of my conversation with Theo and looked her in the eye.

I then looked down again. "Truthfully, no," I admitted. I was willing to get extra hurt if Theo would see it and be a witness to my abuse.

"Why you little-!" She stopped herself in time. Then she pulled out a knife. A sharp one. I swallowed hard. 'Where did she get that?' She reached over and shoved me off my feet so I was sitting in the floor. "Face the other way," she commanded. It just so happened that the 'other way' was the door. I turned to face the door, and saw Theo's extremely concerned face there.

His eyes went up. He must have been looking at my aunt. Suddenly, his eyes widened, then looked back at me, sheer horror in them.

Out of nowhere, I felt a sharp, slicing pain in my back. I arched my back involuntarily and was about to cry out when my aunt reminded, "No sounds,"

I clenched my eyes shut and opened my mouth wide in a silent plea. My fingers trembled as they gripped the now-reddish tile. The knife dug deeper down. My hands gave out and I fell flat on my chest. I curled my knees in, trying to writhe away.

Just as suddenly as it happened, the knife was gone. I gasped for breath as I tried to focus away from the pain. It was hard. Tears running down my face, I looked back up at the door. Theo seemed frozen to the spot, wet streaks going down his cheeks too. I could tell he didn't know what to do.

'Help,' I mouthed silently to him. He nodded quickly and ran from the door. I was alone again. The knife came down once more. Hard. I squeaked as I felt the handle of it press against my back, the blade all the way in.

Gasping, I tried to look at the door, for any sign of help. I saw nothing, but then again, my eyes were glazed and unfocused. It also didn't help that I didn't have my glasses.

The knife left. Breathe. Knife in. Bear the pain. Knife out. Breathe. A continuous cycle that got faster with every cycle.

I felt like a pincushion, getting stabbed so many times. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I gathered up so much air in my lungs, and screamed, "HELP! HELP ME!"

My aunt kicked me in the side, silencing me. I coughed up a bit of blood as I fell and looked up, terrified as to my fate. Blood covered the whole floor, making it sticky yet also slippery. Outrage and disbelief was on my aunt. She narrowed her eyes and pushed me onto my back, holding the knife just over my stomach. I flashbacked to my dream earlier when I was in the coma. I knew I was gonna die.

Looking back one last time at the door, I was surprised to see not only Theo, but Dave and Alvin as well. All had shocked faces. 'I'm sorry,' I mouthed just as the knife came down.

I choked on my breath as the knife entered my stomach deeply. I tried to inhale, but couldn't. As I saw the curtain of death creep in the corners of my eyes, I hazily saw Dave burst in the door, yelling. His voice seemed muffled to me, however, so I don't know what he said.

Theodore and Alvin tended to me. I could barely keep my eyes open, let alone speak. I let their own eyes do the speaking as to what happened for the past week, and why I was acting so weird.

I tried to keep my eyes open. Alvin said something as he cradled my head in his lap. My stomach felt the knife move, and I whimpered. Another voice, then *SCHLOK* the knife squished out of me. I silently cried out.

It felt much better without the knife. I could relax now...

Someone saying my name. Can't respond. Sleepy... So tired...


	7. Flashback

General POV

Alvin wrung his hands nervously as he sat in the waiting room of the hospital, awaiting news of Simon, who had been brought in a few minutes earlier. Alvin could remember it so vividly...

_He was on his way to the theater to see a movie when Dave's phone rang. "That's weird. It says it's Simon," Dave murmured. He flipped it open. "Hello?" There was forced breathing on the other line. "Simon, are you okay?"_

_Suddenly, there was a loud SNAP, then a CRACK. Followed by an agonizing scream. After the scream sounded like it was cut short, there was uneven breathing, and what sounded like sobbing. "Simon?" Dave called, gripping the phone tighter and pulling to the side of the road._

_Alvin and Theodore got worried. Both knew that Simon had gotten unwillingly hurt earlier, and they wondered if he was calling for help. After exchanging glances, they told Dave to put the phone on speaker so they could all hear._

_"Why...?" They heard their brother ask incredibly weakly over the phone, apparently speaking to someone other than them. Then an enraged voice replied,_

_"Because I have rage issues. I need something to be angry at, then I take out all my anger on that thing, and I can be pleasant for the rest of the day. YOU are my something, Simon. So shut up and be in pain!" Dave and his boys heard the snap again, then a pitiful whimper._

_Dave, Alvin, and Theo all gasped in unison. They were hearing their beloved family member be abused right in front of them! "What do we do?" Theo cried. "Simon's being hurt!"_

_"We wait. That's all we CAN do," Dave said regretfully._

_Alvin reached for the phone. "Maybe I can try to get him to talk," he reasoned. He held the phone close, praying that his brother would live._

_Finally, "Alright, Simon. I feel better," Alvin heard the attacker say. "If you can untie yourself, you can go."_

_"Simon?" Alvin called over the phone, very seriously, a moment later. "What's going on? Who was that?" Alvin tried to get Simon to say anything so he knew Simon knew Alvin was there._

_Alvin awaited a response, but was met with gentle crying. It sounded like it was trying to be stifled, but little squeaks came out every now and then._

_"Simon, please say anything!" Alvin desperately called. Just more sobbing and panting._

_"It's no use," Alvin eventually said, handing the phone to Dave. "He won't answer. But I can hear him breathing heavily,"_

_"Then we're going back," Dave said, gassing the car to the max and fishtailing back home._

_Theo took the phone from Alvin, as Dave was too busy to grab it._

_"Simon, I know you're there," Theo's said quietly, hoping no one else would hear. "It's like the bathroom. You're there, but too hurt to answer. Don't worry; we'll be there soon."_

_As they got home, Dave had to go park the car, and Alvin had to take his trash out of the car. Meanwhile, Theo sprinted into the house, running in every room, searching for Simon. He stopped when he got in the bedroom; blood was splattered all over the bed, pooling in some places._

_Theo screamed loudly, horrified at the sight. His aunt ran in. "It's okay, Theodore," she explained. "Simon and I were eating leftover hamburgers together on Simon's bed, but Simon spilled ketchup-!"_

_"I know what ketchup smells like. This smells like metal. This is blood," Theodore snapped. Theo then walked up to the bathroom door. "Simon? You in there again?" He sounded so gentle._

_Theo heard a raspy, whispery voice reply, "Yes,"_

_"Are you locked in unwillingly?"_

_"No. I'm fine, thanks Theo."_

_Theo made a skeptical face. What he heard over the phone was enough to contradict what Simon was telling him now._

_Theo's aunt walked up behind him and spoke sternly through the door. "Simon, I'm coming in," she opened the door, and Theo saw Simon standing, looking terrified, in the middle of the bathroom. 'His hair is wet, so he must have just had a shower,' Theo figured. He also only had his pants on._

_As their aunt was about to close the door, Theo saw Simon jam something in the way so the door wouldn't close all the way. Curious, Theo got closer and peeked in the tiny crack. He saw Simon standing, looking very scared, before their aunt. She waved her arms frantically as she quietly made her point._

_Slowly, Simon turned, and saw Theo. He seemed so relieved to see Theo there._

_Their aunt spoke more, but as Simon turned away, all Theo could see was the bloody mess on Simon's back. His eyes widened as he whispered, "Simon, is that blood on your back?"_

_Simon nodded very gently, placing his hands behind him. Theo saw his blackened hand too, and gasped again. "Your hand-it's black! What happened? Were you burned?" Simon nodded gently again._

_Their aunt spoke more, but Theo didn't hear it. But he did see when she pulled out a knife and knocked Simon off his feet._

_Theo's eyes widened in concern. Simon rolled over and faced him, fear in his eyes. A glint made Theo look up and see their aunt holding the knife above her head, poised at Simon's small, exposed back. Theo gasped and looked at Simon again, just as the knife came down._

_The rest was a blur to Theodore. At one point, Simon collapsed, he cried silently, he even tried to get away. But Theo was frozen there, watching this horror happen. Finally, Simon looked up at Theo, desperation in his face._

_'Help,' Simon mouthed. That one word sent Theo into action; he sprinted through the house, this time searching for Dave and Alvin._

_This time, Theo nearly crashed into them as they entered the house. Alvin grabbed Theo's shoulders. "Did you find Simon? Is he okay?" Alvin demanded. Theo panted, out of breath, as he shook his head._

_Theo tried telling them that Simon was in the bathroom, being hurt that moment, but was too out of breath to say it. Instead, he gestured dramatically towards the bathroom. Neither of his family members understood. Finally Theo motioned to follow him, and led the way._

_Suddenly, a desperate scream, "HELP! HELP ME!" Echoed around the house. Dave's and Alvin's eyes widened as they quickly followed Theo to their bedroom's bathroom. The door was closed, and it was very quiet now. Theo gently cracked the door open and showed his family. Their hearts dropped in seeing Simon lay against the floor, blood everywhere. Dave saw his sister hold her knife over Simon's stomach._

_Simon slowly turned his head to the door, his face contorted in agony and blood and tears all over it. When he saw them staring, mortified, back, he mouthed, 'I'm sorry,' just as the knife skewered him. His face showed shock, then he seemed to be passing out, his eyes clouding over._

_Dave couldn't take it anymore. "HEY!" He shouted as he swung the door open. His sister stared, redhanded, at her brother and his other two sons, who went to Simon._

_Dave grabbed his sister by the neck and spat in her face, "How DARE you abuse my son? HOW DARE YOU?"_

_She came up with no words. Instead, Dave dragged her to the phone in the bedroom, and dialed 9-1-1. He quickly turned her in, and the police came and took her and her son away._

_Meanwhile, Alvin was cradling Simon's head, speaking quietly to him. "Our aunt is the 'they' in the story, isn't she? God, I was so dumb," Alvin cursed himself for not seeing it sooner, and hugged his brother's head gently. Simon struggled for breath. "Theo," Alvin said after a minute. "Can you get the knife out?"_

_Theo nodded, and grabbed the knife. But as he pulled, Simon whimpered, his face showing more agony. Theo looked at Alvin, asking silently if he should continue._

_Alvin nodded. "I'm sorry, Simon," Theo whispered as he quickly pulled the knife out with a squishy sound._

_Dave came back and was very concerned for Simon. Alvin was fanning Simon's suffering face. Simon took quick, uneven breaths._

_"We need to get him to the hospital," Dave told his sons. They agreed and helped lift their brother off the sticky floor._

_The ride there seemed forever. But finally, they got there, and nurses and doctors immediately rushed on Simon's case._

So here sat Alvin with his youngest brother and his father, waiting for the results; whether Simon was okay, or whether he wasn't.


	8. Verdict

General POV

After a few hours of Alvin, Theodore, and Dave waiting, a nurse came out, looking somber. The Sevilles had to swallow the lumps in their throats.

"I'm sorry-!" The nurse began.

"NO!" Theo interrupted. "No! Simon is okay! I know he is!"

The nurse continued. "We tried to save him. But he had too many wounds inflicted not only on the outside but the inside as well. He passed away on the table, under anesthesia. He didn't feel a thing."

"Yes he did!" Alvin shouted angrily, jumping up and pointing to the doors behind her. "He felt our aunt as she destroyed his face, burned him, then stabbed him! Yes, he felt something!" Alvin's eyes filled with tears of denial.

The nurse had nothing to say to that. "You can come see him," she suggested.

Dave, the one still taking all this in, walked in a dream to Simon's room. His two sons followed him. Simon looked so peaceful as he lay against the bed. There were many machines around him, as if he had been attached to them at one point. But now they were all off.

Simon seemed a lot paler than usual, and felt ice cold to the touch. Dave sobbed over his young son's body, Alvin and Theodore joining after a second of shock.


	9. Funeral

The funeral was held a week later. Many, many fans of the Chipmunks came and gave a rose as well as a blessing to Simon as he peacefully lay in his coffin.

As Alvin stared in the coffin, he couldn't help thinking that Simon would sit up and pretend the whole thing was a joke. But he never did. Alvin focused intently on his brother's still face, praying for a twitch or any sign of movement.

Nothing.

Theo came up next to Alvin, and they put their arms around each other, together feeling like this was just a horrible nightmare that they would awaken from soon. Theo sobbed once.

"It's gonna be okay, Theo," Alvin tried to reassure, his voice shaking.

"No, no it won't. It'll never be okay," Theo said angrily.

Dave came up behind them. "It might take a long time, and it'll never be the same, but eventually, Theo, it will be okay. Remember Cookie Chomper III?"

Theo sniffled. "Yeah,"

"Well, remember how it was hard at first, but then we could remember him without it hurting?"

"Yeah, but that's different. This isn't a cat; it's my brother!" Theo broke down, sobbing.

Alvin knelt and put a comforting arm around Theo. After a moment of silence...

(Copy and paste in different window and listen as you read, but remove the spaces)

h t t p : / / w w w . y o u t u b e . c o m /watch?v=KX-AVeVaUFg

"We should remember

All past faces.

Fond recollections,

None can compare."

Theo looked up. Alvin continued to sing quietly.

"If someone needs us,

Just remember:

You're so much richer

For all that you shared.

"So look back with love;

Don't despair."

Theo sniffed and helped sing the chorus.

"Beautiful memories

Last a lifetime.

Memories are new

Every day.

"Beautiful memories

Of our old friends.

Close to our hearts

They will stay."

The rest of the people gathered there made a circle around Simon's coffin, Alvin, and Theo, holding hands and swaying to the song, eyes closed.

"Yes we will miss them,

But remember:

All of the good times;

All that you've done.

"Their warmth and their laughter;

Heartfelt romance.

These should be savored,

Like golden sun.

"The bed of your dreams

Are to come.

"Beautiful memories

Last a lifetime.

Memories are new

Every day.

"Beautiful memories

Of our old friends.

Close to our hearts

They will stay.

"Beautiful memories

Last a lifetime.

Memories are new

Every day.

"Beautiful memories

Of our old friends.

Close to our hearts

They will stay.

"Close to our hearts

They will stay."

Theo smiled very weakly. "I needed that,"

"I know," Alvin said, looking back at Simon. "We all did."


	10. The End

Simon's POV

I slipped into unconsciousness easily. I was actually welcoming it from all the agony earlier. I saw a light, far away. I walked to it.

'Am I dying?' I wondered as I walked closer and closer to the end. Suddenly, I couldn't go anymore. I felt like I was on a rope of rubber bands, just outside the light. I couldn't move forward; I'd just move back.

"Simon," someone said gently. I snatched up my head. In the light, I saw a form. As I looked closer, I saw... Mom.

"Mom?" I whispered in disbelief.

She nodded sweetly. "Yes, Simon. It's me. Come home," she held her arms out, waiting for a hug.

Suddenly, I saw a small gray thing move out of the light and next to me. "Cookie Chomper III!" I cried, scooping up the cat my brothers and I had so adored. I buried my face into his fur, then tickled his tummy the way he liked it.

Cookie seemed to giggle. Then he jumped out of my arms and walked back to the light. Once there, he sat down and stared at me, almost asking if I was coming or not.

I looked over my shoulder; at life, then ahead; at death, and made up my mind.

I walked into the light.


	11. Epilogue

Epilogue

This story goes out to all children who are abused by members of their own families yet never say anything to anybody. Every day, more than 5 children die because of abuse. Usually, the abuse is by someone the victim knows.

Help us stop the insanity of child abuse by sharing the horribleness of it and how we can help. Just think about how you felt when you read about Simon's aunt hurting him. That is a true story somewhere in the world. Maybe the child died, maybe they didn't. But it is a true story somewhere.

Children are the light of the world; treat them as the new adults, ready to take over where the adults leave off. We must train them to be ready to receive that task instead of shunning or hurting them because they're weaker and smaller.

Thank you for taking the time to read my story, and if it has touched you in any way, please feel free to leave a Review, and if you're signed in when you do, I will reply to you in a PM (Private Message).


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